


anchor home

by emAvox



Series: Watcher Yenalla [2]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Edér is the Watcher's big brother and no one can tell me otherwise, Friendship saves the day, Gen, LOTS of game dialogue, Novelization, Rape/Non-con Elements, as in: it will take until his legit deadfire romance in a second fic if it happens at all, i hate myself and decided to do this for whatever reason, lots of sailor vocabulary that i found on wikipedia, my watcher needs a hug :(, oh jeez okay so, there is potential for the slowest possible goddamn burn with Aloth, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emAvox/pseuds/emAvox
Summary: Anchor home:When the anchor is secured for sea. Typically rests just outside the hawsepipe on the outer side of the hull, at the bow of a vessel.Yenalla wanted to make friends and find a home, not be tasked with saving the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay. this is basically a novelization of PoE with my moon godlike Watcher, Yenalla. she is a former slave from Deadfire and is a soft smol girl who her friends want to protect even though she could and will kick their asses. there were be friendship! cursing! pets with bad names! all of that in more in this fic that i am writing because i am a masochist!

Yenalla met Aloth and Edér in the middle of a torrential downpour. She had stumbled into Gilded Vale soaked to the skin, her salvaged armor ( _pulled from Heodan’s dead body, the poor man_ ) hanging on her like a wet bed sheet.

 

She’d already had the great honor of meeting Urgeat and Lord Raedric’s men at the hanging tree. Their bodies swayed lightly in the rough breeze as sheets of rain fell, washing away their features and the flies. Like strange fruit, their bloated skin was fit to burst and rot whenever the sunlight returned if it ever chose to do so. With the slaughter of her caravan, the bîaŵac, the hanging tree, and the weather, Dyrwood seemed a dismal place to have arrived.

 

Despite the concrete decision that Gilded Vale was not the place for her to settle, she was once again without direction. Where else could she go? At Urgeat’s suggestion, she headed southwest to the inn. As she walked, rain dripped steadily from the lip of her hood. Though it barely covered her moon-like halo, the fabric kept water from running into her eyes as much as possible. Small victories.

 

As she edged around the great tree her eyes were drawn to a blond human standing in its shadow. He was steadily smoking a pipe despite the weather and seemed unbothered by the fact that he was as drenched as she. He caught her eye despite the darkness and sent her a rakish grin.

 

“Hey there,” he called out, and she stepped up to him out of politeness. “Were you looking for someone in that tree? I could introduce you.”

 

Through the fabric of her hood, her halo shone on his face. He was slouched against the stone boundary that separated the hanging tree from the courtyard proper and didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon. She could tell that when standing he would be nearly a foot taller than her, and his broad shoulders and big arms brought to mind the sailors from the Ravisher. She shivered and cast the thought away.

 

“I was…” she started hesitantly with a voice barely louder than the rain. “Looking for anyone who can help me feel better.”

 

The man nodded before taking a drag from his pipe. “My condolences,” he said, before turning his attention away.

 

With nothing keeping her, she stepped back and turned towards the inn. Just before she exited the courtyard, a heavily pregnant woman walking in her direction slipped in the mud. Without thinking, Yenalla darted forward and caught the woman by her elbow, saving her from a fall. The apples she had been carrying in a kerchief were not so lucky.

 

“Ah, blast.” the woman sighed as she steadied herself with Yenalla’s help. “Thank you for saving me from a spill. Better the apples than me.”

 

Yenalla said nothing but crouched to gather up the muddy apples and return them to the woman. Standing, the woman seemed to realize for the first time that Yenalla’s face was a new one, and the expectant mother’s eyes lit up.

 

“Did you happen to come in with the caravan?” she asked, trying to withhold her excitement. “My sister was set to travel with it- Calisca. Have you seen her?”

 

Yenalla looked up at the woman for a moment before saying softly. “I’m very sorry.”

 

Aufra ( _that was her name, Calisca told me before the end_ ) went stiff and her smile grew fixed on her face. “Sorry… for what?”

 

Yenalla shook her head. “She died in a bîaŵac while traveling this way.” Not entirely true, but true enough.

 

Aufra at once seemed to deflate and her smile disappeared. “Dead,” she muttered. “Because of me.”

 

After a moment, Yenalla said hesitatingly, “She was kind to me. Your sister.”

 

Coming out of a haze, Aufra smiled bleakly. “Aye, she could be that. I asked her here, to help me, and now she’s dead. Maybe she was too kind, in the end.”

 

Whether or not the other woman was crying Yenalla couldn’t tell, as the rain continued to wash over them and drown out their conversation. “Could I help?”

 

“No, no, I couldn’t ask this of you,” Aufra dismissed her handily. She still seemed dazed and fixedly held the bundle of apples to her chest.

 

Yenalla reached out a tentative hand and touched Aufra’s, gently pressing their fingers together.

 

“Please,” the godlike woman asked. Her dark eyes looked into Aufra’s and held the other woman’s gaze.  “Let me help you.”

 

Aufra’s lips trembled before she said, “There’s a woman named Ranga in Anslög's Compass who makes a potion that saves children from being Hollowborn.”

 

Without hesitation, Yenalla nodded. “I’ll find her and bring it back.”

 

Aufra was certainly crying now, the rain doing nothing this time to hide her tears. “ _Thank you_.”

 

Yenalla shook her head and patted the woman’s hand before they parted ways. Once more, she left for the tavern. Without her noticing the blond man beneath the hanging tree watched her go.

 

She rounded the corner to hear raised voices coming from the direction of the inn and sighed softly to herself. _Gods, I just want a bed and a fire_.

 

As she drew closer she saw four people gathered by the door to the inn. Their raised voices and violent hand gestures were proof of an ongoing argument about to reach its climax. The man furthest from Yenalla raised his hands in a placating manner. Though hooded in the dark, she could tell from his height and stature that he was an elf ( _she’d spent enough time in the dark with men to be able to tell the difference_ ).

 

“I meant no offense.” the man said with a laugh, attempting to calm the others. “Let’s put this matter to rest over a round, shall we? My treat.”

 

One of the village folk spit at his feet and crossed her arms. “Hoping to soothe our pride with a few Aedyre coppers, eh? We don’t need your coin.”

 

Yenalla said nothing but watched from just beyond their circle. She didn’t want to interrupt but she also couldn’t get into the building without passing them. Besides, three on one didn’t seem to be much of a fair fight, and with her own history, she was never able to turn her back on someone that others hurled abuse at.

 

One of the other men glared at the elf. “You’ve got a lot of gall, mocking us in our own village. We don’t take ill treatment from foreigners. ‘Specially not _Aedyrans_.”

 

When the elf didn’t reply, the drunk man stepped forward and jerked his chin. “Go on. Say it again. I’m itching for an excuse.”

 

The elf suddenly stepped forward so that he and the human were chest to chest, his face twisted in anger as his voice dropped into a brogue. “Fye, you’re itchin’ for the kindling touch of your sister, ye coxfither!”

 

The last villager, who had up until that point been silent, let out a cry of outrage. “I’ll cut that barrel-licking tongue out of your head!”

 

The elf raised his hands in a placating manner even as he shifted his weight onto his back foot, preparing to run or to fight. “This is a misunderstanding! I didn’t say… whatever it is you think I said.”

 

His voice changed again as he said, “We’ve nye quarrel.”

 

One of the villagers drew her sword, the metal faintly reflecting the flickering tavern lights. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

 

“Um,” Yenalla whispered. Her voice was snatched out of the air by the wind. “I don’t think attacking him is such a good idea…”

 

Somehow the villagers heard her. As one their heads swiveled away from the cornered elf to scowl in her direction. “And why’s that?” their ringleader asked.

 

Behind them, Yenalla saw the elven man take a few silent steps back. Her concern that he would run away and leave her at the mercy of the three drunks quickly fled as she saw him reaching for the grimoire and wand he had stored at his hips.

 

More fighting then, she thought.

 

“This will end badly,” she warned them all.

 

One of the men swayed a step closer to her in the rain, his face twisted in anger. “It sounds suspiciously like you’re defending him.”

 

With a sneer, he drew the club at his belt as did the other man. All three villagers took a moment before rushing her, shouting abuse as they did. Yenalla stumbled back and fumbled at her belt to draw her wand. Behind the humans, she could see the elven man’s eyes widen at the change in target before he scowled. Apparently, he didn’t like it when other people were targeted for his own actions.

 

With a shout, both spellcasters reached for their magic. Yenalla directed a force of wind against the woman, knocking her back against the wall of the inn hard enough for her head to crack the glass in the window. She fell and did not rise again. With a flash of light, the elven man released a series of missiles that knocked another villager to the ground where he lay and groan.

 

The final man, the ringleader, did not heed the sounds of battle around him. He rushed Yenalla with a single-minded focus and stabbed his weapon wildly in her direction. The dull blade slashed a small wound in her shoulder, the pain barely felt. As he shifted to attack again, she raised her grimoire and smashed it solidly against his face with enough force to send him spinning on his back foot before he collapsed.

 

For a moment she stood with her grimoire aloft in case the man rose to his feet again, but the three attackers lay silent. Once she returned to her usual stance she looked across at the elven man that she had helped defend and saw him watching her with barely concealed amazement. When he noticed her looking he snapped his open mouth shut, and she could hear his teeth click together. Moving gingerly around the humans laying prone in the mud she walked over to him.

 

“Not quite how I hoped to get to know the neighbors,” he said smoothly, looking almost relaxed. “Thank you for your timely assistance with that… awkward situation.”

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Yenalla replied softly. The man leaned in a bit to hear her before nodding in thanks.

 

With a quick smile, he said, “Courtesy is a rare pleasure in these parts. Though your accent suggests that you are no more local than I.” He fiddled with his hood as he spoke.

 

“I suppose introductions are in order after that little fiasco. Aloth Corfiser,” he said with a slight bow, “at your service.”

 

“Are you hurt?” she asked. He seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened, looking a little more genuine.

 

“Less than you,” he said, looking at her shoulder. The already dark fabric was soaked from the rain making it impossible to tell at a glance if she was bleeding heavily.

 

“Do you live here?” she asked curiously. She remembered suddenly what he had just said about meeting the neighbors and added, “...yet?”

 

“No,” Aloth responded, hanging his scepter from his belt. “I’m a wizard by training and an adventurer by necessity. I was born in the Cythwood, part of the mainland of the Aedyr Empire. Both of my parents served the nobility, which afforded me an education for which I’m grateful. However, there were no open positions in those houses, and so I decided to seek new means in a new land.”

 

He peered at her through the growing darkness and asked, “How exactly did you come to be here?”

 

She fiddled with her wand, suddenly nervous. This had been the longest conversation she had held in… well, ever. “I was traveling with a caravan, but we were separated…”

 

She realized suddenly that she was glaring holes into her own boots and forced herself to look up at him in an attempt to make eye contact. “...near some ruins.”

 

She saw Aloth’s eyebrows shoot up before she lowered her gaze again. “ _Engwithan ruins_? Those can be dangerous places during the best of times, which these are not. Half the locals would arrest you for trespassing and the rest would kill you outright.” He leaned closer. “I’m curious. What exactly did you find there?”

 

She swallowed, remembering the feel of the wind cutting into her skin. “A bîaŵac.”

 

“And you survived? I’ve heard such a thing was impossible.” Aloth said with growing interest. “It seems you either have a knack for timing or the favor of the gods.”

 

The corner of her mouth twisted down into a slight grimace before she smoothed out her expression. A change of subject, she thought.

 

“Why were they mad?” she asked about the drunks. Based on the face Aloth made, he had both seen her expression and was able to notice her conversational sidestep.

 

“I’m afraid that was a matter of misunderstandings and mistranslation.” he said, tenting his fingers and looking away. “It doesn’t help that the people in these parts remember their war with Aedyr like it was yesterday.”

 

 _Now who’s avoiding the question_? She thought. She peered up at him from under her hood. “You did tell that one man to go fuck his sister.”

 

He cut his eyes back at her sharply, seeming surprised that she’d called him on it. “Ah,” he said eloquently. “That.”

 

She watched him with growing amusement as he cleared his throat and fiddled with his sleeves. He went on after a moment. “As I tried to tell them, they misheard me. Happens all too easily after a few pints, and the accent doesn’t help.”

 

He glanced back at her just as the corner of her mouth ticked up just slightly. “I see,” she replied.

 

“For which I am grateful,” he said with obvious relief. “Let’s, ah, discuss something else, shall we?”

 

“Why Gilded Vale?” she asked, and at that moment the sky released a flood of water. They both instinctively ducked under the slight overhang of the inn’s roof. After a moment of hesitation, she walked back out and dragged the unconscious villagers under the overhang at well, sitting them upright against the wall.

 

“An excellent question,” he said as she finished her work and joined him again. He folded his arms and went on. “I came looking for fresh air and cheap land. Instead, the magistrate gave me directions to the inn and a story about a local lord’s expectant wife. But I take it that’s a familiar tale.”

 

She leaned heavily against the wall of the inn and slid down into a crouch, her legs refusing to hold her for much longer. Even after all of her time on land, her legs tired much more quickly than she ever expected. He looked alarmed for a moment at what seemed like collapse before she looked up at him and he relaxed.

 

Aloth was cute, she suddenly decided, and funny. The curve of his face was highlighted by the dangling lantern at the inn’s door as he turned to look at her. “And you?” he asked.

 

She took a moment to judge him before she decided that he seemed honest enough, and not likely to turn her in after they’d fought together. “I’m looking for someone who knows about souls.”

 

“Indeed?” he asked as he looked her up and down. “The local lord has searched far and wide for similar specialists. He has rid himself of them almost as desperately.” He nodded toward the hanging tree.

 

He looked out over the fields and the village around them, crumbling into dust. “I expect that such expertise would be best sought elsewhere.”

 

“You don’t exactly look like a settler,” she said, and a sly grin crept over his face.

 

“Begging your pardon, but neither do you. Yet circumstances can find a person in the strangest of places,” he said with a voice that seemed a step away from laughter.

 

She huffed a breath out of her nose that could have been a laugh before she nodded and hauled herself back to her feet. The firelight from the inside of the inn was calling her.

 

“I should get going,” she said over a yawn.

 

“As should I, given recent events. It’s just as well. I’ve had enough of the watered wine and lumpy beds at the inn.” He wrinkled his nose. “They say even the owner tired of this place. Just up and left one day. It explains a lot about the upkeep.”

 

He looked up briefly at the rusted sign trying to sway in the wind before turning back to her. He had a hopeful look on his face that she immediately knew she would not be able to refuse.

 

“Perhaps I could join you,” he half asked. “I could use a change of scenery, and I find it’s better to travel in numbers.”

 

She cast a look at the inn, full of longing, and he seemed to catch himself. “Ah, perhaps one more night at the inn to rest?”

 

When she nodded, he smothered a grin and drew himself up to his full, stately height. “Excellent.” He said. He stepped over to the inn’s door and hauled it open, holding it there as he gestured her in with one hand. “I shall follow you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Her sleep was restless. She had found herself at the hanging tree. The old dwarf who had come back from the dead and called her “Watcher” haunted her eyes long into the following day after she had awoken, even after she and Aloth had traveled to Anslög's Compass to receive the hollowborn cure for Aufra and returned. The sun was well past its zenith by the time she and Aloth stepped out of Aufra’s home.

 

She glanced quickly at Aloth before turning her feet toward the tree, but he followed without complaint.  _ Verbal _ complaint, anyway. His face screwed up in disgust as they drew nearer, and he raised a hand to his nose to ward off either the smell or the flies.

 

Just for a moment, Yenalla thought to herself. Just to make sure that that woman is really dead.

 

The dwarf’s body dangled from its thin rope, looking moments away from falling to the ground as the flesh finally gave way to the power of gravity. As Yenalla gazed up she thought that she could almost see a purple haze in the light and it seemed, in an odd way, as if she could just… reach out and…

 

Yenalla took a breath and something in her  _ tugged _ ; on the exhale she felt herself stretch up and out, away from her body and toward the hanging woman’s. She flinched back suddenly as she was assailed with images and words and sounds. As she shut her eyes she could see the woman’s body with her rotting mouth curved up into a smile.

 

When she opened her eyes again the woman in the tree was staring down at her.

 

“Have you come here for me, dear? Or have you gotten lost?” the woman asked as she squinted down at Yenalla. “Ah. It is both, I think. Yes?”

 

“How are you speaking to me?” Yenalla asked, despite the fact that she could almost feel the answer.

 

“Is that what we’re doing? Perhaps it just seems that way. Perhaps it is the easiest way for your mind to make sense of it.” The woman ( _ Caldara _ , something whispered) smiled. “I think it is a very good choice.”

 

“Am I imagining this?” the godlike asked. It was odd, speaking to Caldara. She almost forgot to be afraid.

 

After a moment of consideration, Caldara said, “No, I think not.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “A pity, that. It would be simpler. A mercy, even. To not have to wonder anymore, no? Alas, we are here, you and I. Wherever ‘here’ may be.”

 

“I think something happened to me,” Yenalla said. “Can you help?”

 

Caldara nodded pityingly. “The world looks a little different than it used to, is that it? Feels like you’re noticing things for the first time that have always been there?”

 

She nodded again. “You have seen past the Shroud. It only takes an instant. Your soul remembers, yes? Remembers how it sees when it leaves the body, like being reminded of a dream you had forgotten. You are a Watcher, now. And a Watcher you will stay.”

 

That word again, she thought. “What’s a Watcher?”

 

“What indeed. Long hours have many animancers spent studying such things. Not I, though. Not I. I’ll tell you what I know, though, since fair is fair, and here we are visiting, you and I, and it reminds me of better times.” Caldara said. “Souls pass on. Some say adra stones which are the blood-veins of the world. They leave the world for a time and are reborn into it, sometimes more than they were before, but usually less, and seldom the same. For all souls, there is a time when they do not live, yet have not passed on, and those souls roam the world same as you or I, either leaving or Lost. But no one sees them because they have forgotten how.

 

“ A Watcher sees, though. Knows what to look for. And sometimes they know a person just by looking at them. Knows where they've been in ages past when their bodies were other bodies. See memories even their owner can't recall. A wonder to behold when all goes well. A wonder!”

 

“‘When all goes well’?” Yenalla asked as she looked sharply at the dwarf.

 

“Oh, nothing to be afraid of, I’m sure,” the woman said consolingly. “It’s just… much to take in for some. Sometimes there’s trouble sleeping or other difficulties.” She smiled.

 

There was a twinkle in Caldara’s eye when she went on. “ _ You _ should see old Maerwald.  _ He _ could tell you much more than I. A Watcher, just like you. Helped many in his day. Took up in an old keep no one would claim, not far, not far. Caed Nua, beyond the Black Meadow. He will welcome the company.”

 

Yenalla nodded without thought before speaking again. “I think I survived a  bîaŵac. Do you know why?”

 

Caldara’s faced changed to one of scholarly interest before shifting back to its previous smile. “Did you now, dear? My, that would be something, wouldn’t it? Could be luck. Could certainly be. A storm can be a careless thing.”

 

“Or maybe it got its hands around your soul, but couldn’t pick it up. A soul can be a heavy thing if it’s stayed in one piece through its time. Strong souls, we call them in the trade.” She stopped herself before smiling sadly. “ _ Called _ , I mean. Called them. Those days are behind me, no?”

 

“One piece?” Yenalla asked in concern. Could souls…  _ break _ ?

 

“Oh yes. Entropy. Rymrgand’s work. We know little of why or how. We lose pieces of ourselves when we die and pick up pieces of others when we’re born again, but less than what we lost. We’ve tried to stop it with the animantic sciences, but with little success, oh no.”

 

The dwarf clicked her tongue. “A very small few resist Rymrgand’s influence and stay together through some force of defiance, at least for a time. But they all succumb eventually, I think.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment, Caldara’s body swinging in a nonexistent wind. Yenalla looked up at her and asked, “What happened to you?”

 

“Me?” she asked before breaking out into a rasping, choking laugh that shook her body. “Oh come now! Such a question. As though the answer weren’t plain as a rope tied for strangling. Allow an old dwarf her last bit of cheer.”

 

“Well,” she started. “I came where I was needed, didn’t I? Offered my services for Lord Raedric for a pittance. A humble pittance. I was to examine the lord’s wife, see why the gods have seen fit to poison her womb. Studied her for months. Looked high and low for impurities, tested her valence, the permeability of her essence. Do you know what I found?”

 

She shook her head. “Nothing at all. A healthy woman, head to toe, blessed with a beautiful soul. Such a sweet woman, too. Meek, but warm-hearted. A few months’ time and the lord of the house demanded answers. For a time I told him what he wanted to hear. ‘Oh yes, my lord, she is riddled with imbalances. I must have time to cure her.’ As the birth drew near, he grew impatient, as lords do. And this is where I’ve ended up.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Yenalla said, and she found that she meant it. The woman may have been unnerving but she seemed kind in her own way.

 

Startled, Caldara raised her eyebrows. “A lovely sentiment, child, but this was no fault of your own. Off you go, now, to Maerwald.”

 

Yenalla nodded once more, locking eyes with Caldara a final time. “Thank you,” she said. “And farewell.”

 

“Goodbye, my dear,” Caldara said. “It was lovely visiting.” 

 

With that, her eyes closed and her head slumped back over the noose. The world bled around Yenalla for one moment longer before, in a blink, she stood trembling in the Gilded Vale rain once more.

 

Aloth shifted to her right and leaned into her field of vision, startling her. “Are you alright?” he asked with narrowed eyes, either in suspicion or against the weather. “You seemed… lost just now.”

 

She stared at him for a beat longer than she should have before she said faintly, “Yes. I’m fine.”

 

The elf folded his arms, dissatisfied. “That’s good to know, but I don’t suppose you could tell me what that was all about?”

 

She blinked and blinked again, swaying slightly. “I’m a Watcher.”

 

His eyebrows seemed to disappear off of his face. “Well. That is interesting.”

 

With a grin, he went on. “And I expect that explains how you survived a  bîaŵac, hmm? In any case, I appreciate your honesty. Since we’re traveling together, it’s probably wise for us to share these things.”

 

“Aloth,” she said with enough force that she felt as if she had shouted it at the top of her lungs. “Do you know anything about… Watchers?”

 

He shrugged one shoulder. “Only that they’re rare and that they seem to have unique insight into certain… soul conditions. As you’ve just demonstrated.”

 

Yenalla took a moment to shake her head, trying to clear it and anchor herself. She cast a brief look away from the tree and saw a few villagers watching the two of them suspiciously, for having stood and spoken under the tree for so long. “Let’s continue on.”

 

As they walked away from the bodies and exited the small courtyard, Yenalla noticed the blond man from yesterday smoking in the same spot. As they passed him, the human said, unprompted, “Seventeen and a half.”

 

She turned to look at him, and he met her eyes with a smirk. The lines of his face were blurred slightly by the sweet smelling pipe smoke that hung around his head.

 

“Seventeen and a half,” he repeated as he leaned against the stone wall separating the tree from the town itself. “Could be eighteen depending on how you count the dwarf woman.”

 

Aloth had taken a few extra steps away from the tree but turned back at the sound of the man’s voice.

 

“I’m sorry?” Yenalla asked, confused.

 

“The dwarf woman. You were trying to figure out whether to count her as a full person. I think you oughtta.” The man said, pulling on his pipe again. He let out a stream of smoke, kindly not in Yenalla’s direction.

 

Her eyebrows pulled together. When she glanced at Aloth he seemed as confused as she was and only gave a small, slightly imperious shrug. She looked back at the human and he explained, “The people hanging from the tree. Eighteen of ‘em. Last I counted, anyway.”

 

Aloth frowned. “Is that what you people do for fun around here?”

 

The man extended a hand which they both shook, Aloth reluctantly so. “Name’s Edér, though to the people around here, might as well be ‘Nineteen.’”

 

Edér looked them over for a moment before grimacing. “Don’t think I’d put you much higher than Twenty-two, Twenty-three tops,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You look like the sort that likes to get involved.”

 

In the following silence, Yenalla could almost feel the danger of his words as an entity standing at her back. “What makes you think I was interested in the dwarf woman?”

 

Edér raised one eyebrow before his smirk widened. “I was smoking over here, saw you staring at her. Twice I refilled my pipe. You never so much as blinked. Your mouth was so slack I took you for a Raedric at first.”

 

Her eyes narrowed minutely. “I don’t drool half as much,” she said quietly.

 

Edér let out a short laugh. “So you’re already familiar. Still, you’ll have to forgive my curiosity. ‘Round here we prefer to turn a blind eye to our dead.”

 

She caught herself suddenly looking into his eyes, and she pulled her gaze down like a yank on a leash. “I’ve been… out of sorts lately,” she muttered.

 

“Course. We all got our bad days when we stand perfectly still and stare at corpses for a while without blinking.” He winked, fishing for an answer.

 

She looked back over at Aloth, who noticed her gaze after a moment. He seemed to notice the question in her eyes and, after looking Edér over quickly, he shrugged again as if to say ‘seems alright.’

 

She looked back at Edér and asked so softly that the man had to lean in to hear her, “Do you know what a Watcher is?”

 

Edér stepped up to her quickly after casting a hasty look around. “Careful, friend. Best not use that word ‘round here. Could be any number of Raedric bootlickers within earshot. Ciphers, animancers, Watchers… same thing in the eyes of the folks around here, Raedric especially. They come through these parts all the times with their ‘cures,’ preying on the desperate. None of them are who they claim to be.”

 

Edér’s quick movement and his height had Yenalla stumbling back a half step. Without comment, he took a step back and sank into his old slouch against the wall. “Course seeing you with that funny look, I’d be halfway inclined to believe you  _ were _ having some kind of communion with that dwarf,” he said with a laugh. “Either case, maybe I’m not Nineteen after all. No offense.”

 

“None taken,” she said, relaxing with his distance.

 

“Good,” he smiled around his pipe. “They don’t mean it personal when they hang folks here. I have to remind myself. The town’s had it in for me for a long time now. Only fella who ever stuck up for me, well… he’s number eighteen up there. My headman on the farm. Used to be my captain during the war.”

 

At this, Aloth moved to lean against the other side of the wall and began to flip through his grimoire. Yenalla gingerly did the same closer to Edér. “The war?” she asked.

 

“Saint’s War,” he said. “Only one in my lifetime. Fella decides he’s the living incarnation of Eothas. Overthrows Readceras. Marches on Dyrwood. So we gave him a Dyrwoodan Hello.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, and he explained with an odd smile, “We blew him up.”

 

“Who’s Eothas?”

 

“God of rebirth and redemption. Formerly, anyhow. Maybe they call him something different where you’re from?” he asked her. She shrugged.

 

“Could I, um…” she said, hesitating. “I have more questions if that’s okay?”

 

“I got time,” Edér replied, easy as anything. He seemed content to smoke and talk all day in the shadow of death.

 

“Why was your friend hanged?”

 

“Got involved,” he said. The corner of his mouth pulled down slightly. “Raedric sent men down here the other day. Said they had it on good authority someone in town was working with Kolsc. Plotting Raedric’s overthrow. Said if he didn’t come forward right then and there, they’d hang every last one of us.” He took a drag off of his pipe and exhaled. “No one was coming forward. So Swithin - that’s my headman - he steps up and says it’s him. They took him at his word.”

 

He sighed and shook his head, eyes sliding over to the tree. “Bound to happen sooner or later. If not for plotting against Raedric then for protecting me.”

 

Yenalla’s eyebrows drew slightly together. There were a lot of names in this conversation that she had never heard before. “Who’s Kolsc?”

 

“Someone who’s tired of all the hangings. He’s on the run now. Probably will be till they catch him.”

 

She nodded, considering. One more question was probably all she would get. “What does your town have against you?”

 

Edér shrugged. “Picked the wrong god, that’s what it comes down to. Used to be a lot of Eothas worshipers in Gilded Vale. That mess of rocks over there,” he said, pointing at the rubble on their left, “was a temple to him, to give you some idea.”

 

He dropped his hand and went on. “Then one day someone named Waidwen shows up on Dyrwood’s doorstep. Says he’s the living flesh of Eothas. Got an army with him. Suddenly Eothas isn’t so popular in these parts. My brother Woden and me, neither of us believed it. No way was that Eothas. He enlisted, then I did too. But he didn’t make it back.”

 

Another drag of his pipe and he went on. “After the war, people took to punishing Eothas worshipers. Accusing them of treason. Got real ugly, especially after the Legacy started. Folks needed someone to blame. I was safe because I fought, but then this rumor starts that my brother, that he was on the wrong side. Then I wasn’t so safe anymore - not till my headman stepped in, said they’d have to hang him to get to me.”

 

He looked up at the tree again. “Seems that’s no longer a concern. Of course, the townies don’t do the hangings these days, but when Raedric’s men come they got no problem doing the pointing.”

 

Aloth glanced up from the study of his grimoire and said in a low voice, “You can see why I was eager to leave.”

 

“Why are you still here then?” she asked.

 

With a half-smile, Edér said, “To drink, mostly. Point of fact, I’m on my way out. Just haven’t figured out where I’m going yet. Not a whole lot of places out there that don’t think Waidwen’s Legacy started with Waidwen.”

 

“Um,” she said. Both men looked at her and she stuttered a bit under the attention. “We could travel together.”

 

Edér raised his eyebrow. “Where ya headed?”

 

“Caed Nua,” she said, the words falling out of her mouth oddly. “To find an old… Watcher.”

 

Edér nodded. “Seem to remember hearing something about that, years ago. He tamed that place. People would seek him out for all kinds of things. Troubles of the soul. Questions for the departed. Course, that was back when you didn’t have to say Watcher with a hush on your breath.”

 

After considering for a moment, Edér nodded again with a light in his eyes. “A man such as that… there’d be things I’d wanna ask him. Don’t know why I never thought of it before.” He scratched at his beard before continuing. “Not sure how I feel about setting out with a stranger - and a strange one at that. But truth be told you might be the only one in town who wouldn’t feel relief seeing me swing from that tree.”

 

Aloth looked over at him with something like a smile on his face. “That’s a fine reason if I ever heard one.”

 

Edér shrugged. “Alright then. Guess I’ll do some sightseeing.” After glancing briefly at the tree, he gave Yenalla a pointed look. “Long as you’re not the one picking the sights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boys are back in toooooooown


	3. Chapter 3

“So,” Edér said easily as they traveled the worn paths of Magran’s Fork. “Aloth and Nalla, was it?”

 

“ _ Ye _ nalla,” Aloth corrected. He squinted up at the clear sky, a light sheen of sweat on his brow from the heat of the sun.

 

“Either is fine,” she cut in before they could start going at it. They seemed like the people to do that, at times. “It’s still my name.”

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Either,” Edér said with a smirk. They passed a statue on their left as they followed the curve in the road. In its shadow, she saw a vague shape and a flash of white teeth, grinning in the dark, a moment before--

 

“Come to pray at the statue?” a deep voice boomed. In an instant the woman of stone was aflame. Yenalla flinched back into Edér who pressed a firm hand against her shoulder as he angled himself between her and the shadow man.

 

The flames behind the stranger cast an orange pallor over his already sickly face, cheeks bulging and covered in pox scars. His smile was twisted and a step away from insane. “The others are welcome, but it’s best if just you and I trade words, and your shadows stay quiet, hands off their weapons - both arcane and steel. It’s only you I want to trade words with anyway.”

 

Yenalla thought, perhaps, that she should respond. That was what people did in conversations, yes? Respond to… other people. Her heart was thrashing around in her throat like a caged bird---

 

“I swear before the whore that is Magran no harm will come to you in her shadow, if that’s enough of a promise for you. If not…” he drawled, and an ash-covered staff appeared suddenly in his hand. Her eyes were drawn to it instinctively. When she looked up again, the strange man gave her a humorless smile.

 

She could smell fire and heat and searing flesh, and she felt the weight of her shackles against her wrists, burning red in the night ( _ “His head on the bowsprit!” _ ). Edér’s hand tightened on her shoulder, just slightly, and she took a deep breath as if she had been holding her breath.

 

She drew back another half step. She felt Aloth at her back, silent and steady.

 

“I have no need to trade words with you,” she bit out. She took three steps back, past Aloth and Edér, before turning and following the path again. The strange man did not call out after her, only let her go, and she could feel the heat of the flame at her back recede into nothing.

 

She calmed herself as she took long strides away in the direction of Black Meadow. Her companions caught up with her quickly and they walked on in silence. She could tell without looking that they were casting glances at each other over her head but she did not turn around.

 

“Are you alright?” Aloth asked tentatively once they stopped for a brief rest. He sat next to her on a fallen log and kindly did not draw attention to the wolf blood that he was sitting in. Edér was a short distance away, skinning the last of the creatures.

 

Her breath punched out of her forcefully, and she nodded without looking into his eyes.

 

If Aloth was offended by her short answer he did not let it show. “Alright,” he said with uncertainty.

 

“He,” she started and then stopped short. A hand wrapped itself around her vocal cords and she swallowed around it. Aloth sat with her until she spoke again. “He reminded me of someone.”

 

“Ah. I understand,” the elf said. “Maybe not exactly, as I am without the details but… I know how it feels to be reminded of something or someone that you would rather forget.”

 

He stood and hesitated for a moment before he patted her twice on the shoulder. “If you would like to talk,” he said, face earnest when she finally looked up at him. “I am willing to listen.”

 

With that he wandered off toward some flowers, leaving her to sit in the dappled sunlight and listen to the sound of the birds.

 

That night when they stopped to camp in Black Meadow she dreamed of a dark room. She woke more than once but every time fell back into the same memory. Even after the day-long trek from Black Meadow to Caed Nua, the presence of the strange man seemed to dog her steps. As they crossed the bridge to the keep itself, she was startled out of her thoughts by a man’s cheerful hum. She cast her gaze to the left and saw an aumaua in worn armor staring up at the walls of the keep. He scribbled frantically as he took notes with a piece of charcoal and paper in his hands, his colorful hat nearly falling off from the force of his motions.

 

“What are you doing?” Yenalla asked.

 

The man jumped a bit in surprise before looking down at her, blinking. He grinned suddenly and waved the parchment in greeting.

 

“Killing time, if I’m honest!” he boomed. “I’ve already walked the perimeter twice. There are names scratched upon some of the bricks, just there. Workers and masons, I expect. Carving a little immortality for themselves.” He looked back up at the walls with a fond expression. “It’s a fine keep, Caed Nua. Two centuries to its name… and abandoned for nearly as long.”

 

He pointed his charcoal at the gates. “But the interesting part is in there… and I haven’t had much luck in reaching the keep itself. I hoped to find the master of this place - a man by the name of Maerwald - but it seems that he either holds his privacy most dear or else has been devoured by his houseguests.”

 

Her head tilted to the side a bit as she gazed up at him. “Why haven’t you gone inside?”

 

“Well,” the aumaua started, seeming embarrassed. “It’s just that there are a great many dangerous creatures, between the keep and I. I did make an attempt, of course! … And I was chased away by dark spirits.”

 

At her side, Edér peered into the darkness past the gate. “I came here looking for him, too,” she said.

 

The man’s face brightened. “Truly? Then perhaps we can help one another! The grounds are infested with all manner of beasts. I’ve never seen the like. I didn’t want to risk it alone - but you seem capable. Together, I am sure we could manage it! And then we can both ask our questions of Maerwald.”

 

He tucked his paper and charcoal into his knapsack before walking over to stand with them. “I seek a great treasure, you see. Not gold or silver, but the  _ Tanvii ora Toha _ . You might call it the ‘Book of Virtues.’ It’s a sacred text of Rauatai - but we possess only a fragment of it. A year, I’ve journeyed in search of the rest. And I uncovered evidence that leads me to believe the original lies just there - beneath the keep.”

 

Yenalla’s eyes widened, easily swept up in the man’s excitement. “We should find it!”

 

“Excellent! Lead on, my friend, and I will be at your heels.” He smiled before grimacing suddenly. “Ah, wait - speaking of that, I ought to warn you, first. Ondra’s teeth, I nearly forgot. I have at times been followed - it began in Aedyr, and in Ixamitl they attacked outright… I believe they do not wish for me to find what I am looking for.”

 

He snorted. “I say ‘believe’, but I have been told as much by one of my would-be assassins… I pay them little mind. Humorless sorts in long robes. But it’s why I bought the sword, you see. And it’s only fair that you should know.”

 

The corner of Yenalla’s mouth ticked up a bit, and both Edér and Aloth smiled when they saw it, the elf letting out a short laugh. “What are a few assassins between friends?” she asked.

 

The aumaua laughed as well. “I’m glad you’re not discouraged. Come, then. Who knows what we will find inside!”

 

As they fought their way through the courtyard, Aloth remarked idly, “Looks like this place has been abandoned for years.”

 

She was inclined to agree. At the keep’s doors, which had almost completely rotted away, there was a flash of light; through the ensuing haze Yenalla could see an old elven man, his face twisted in anger.

 

“You can’t do this!” he spat.

 

“Do what?” she asked. Kana looked at her when she spoke aloud, confused.

 

“This is our village. Our home! The Nine Claws have lived here almost fifty generations.” The apparition went on, scowling. “We were here long before your kind brought war to our lands. You can’t just burn it all!”

 

The man was wracked with coughs and flames seemed to flicker at the edges of his body. “Have mercy, soldier!” he gasped. “Our warriors have all gone… You can’t burn us all because of them.”

 

He reached out with one hand, coughing and gasping for breath, before he fell to his knees, overcome by fire. With that, he vanished. Yenalla blinked and looked around but the man had gone. Shaking her head she stepped forward and, with the rest of her companions, pushed the doors to the keep open. Inside, spiders’ webs and cracked stones shone dully in the moonlight that filtered in from the roof’s holes. At the end of the long entry hall sat an understated throne with a grand carving of a woman with antlers on top of it.

 

“Do you think he’d mind if we sat in his chair?” Edér asked. “He doesn’t have to know.”

 

Kana huffed out a small laugh but offered no more. She was not alone in feeling the energy of this place, abandoned and silent. Their steps were gentle as they proceeded, the only noise their breathing and the shifting of fabric as they moved. The spirits in the place were easily defeated and they carried forward.

 

As they came to the end of the great hall, Yenalla hesitated. She could feel a sort of warmth radiating from the marble throne, the carved woman’s face seeming to look upon their group with approval. Then, the throne spoke.

 

“ _ Another watcher in Caed Nua. Glowing very brightly indeed to these eyes. What strange happenstance. _ ” the voice whispered.

 

“Who’s speaking?” Yenalla asked warily. Her three companions had immediately begun to look around for the source of the voice but found nothing.

 

“ _ I’m sorry if I startled you. I’m afraid my manners have been slipping. I haven’t had much opportunity for introductions, lately _ .” the voice said. They all focused on the throne, where the voice seemed to center. “ _ In any case, I assume you’re here looking for Maerwald. _ ”

 

“Yes,” Yenalla replied as she licked her lips. The dust in the air stuck in her throat. “Where is he?”

 

“ _ I can feel his presence faintly somewhere deep inside the keep. But he uses his gifts to confound me, and my senses are dulled while he does do. I only wish I could know his mind. _ ” the voice said regretfully.

 

Above their heads, the clouds shifted, and the moonlight streamed down to highlight the curve of the woman’s face.

 

Yenalla thought for a moment before she asked, “Are you imprisoned in that throne?”

 

_ “Imprisoned? At times it feels that way, I suppose. But it’s more that I reside here. The throne was brought up from the ruins. One of the first things they found. As a last favor to a dying woman, the erl arranged for me to be moved into it. _ ” the voice said. “ _ Adra is an accommodating vessel for a soul. _ ”

 

After a moment the voice-- the  _ woman _ \-- went on. “ _ Oh, it’s not as confining as it seems. I can feel the whole keep from here, and all things that are tied to it. There’s something about this throne and its construction. Or maybe it’s something about this place. _ ”

 

“Do you get lonely?” Yenalla asked with sudden concern. She knew how it felt to be an ornament, kept apart and alone.

 

“ _ Lonely _ ?” the voice asked, surprised. “ _ It has been some time since any have thought to ask after  _ me _. At times, I suppose, these walls seem far away from all else. Especially these days _ .”

 

“Thank you,” Yenalla said. “We will try to find Maerwald, then.”

 

“ _ Take care in your search, child _ .” the voice told her. “ _ Many dangers lie in wait here _ .”

 

In the silence that followed, a door to their left creaked open ominously. Yenalla shot a look at Edér who looked slightly spooked by the sentient door. Aloth looked nonplussed and Kana, for all of his excitement, seemed a bit hesitant. She sighed and moved forward again. Just before they descended further into the keep another apparition appeared.

 

“Been out playing soldier again, have we?” the frail elven woman asked. “Go wash up and help me shuck out these peas.”

 

She produced a basket from behind her. “And no complaints. “You’ve got to eat your vegetables if you want to grow up strong and be a real soldier one day. Just like we agreed, right?”

 

Yenalla stayed silent, and the spirit went on unprompted. “Soldiers are important people. They defend the weak, and punish the wicked. You’re too young to understand now, but there are lots of wicked people. People like the men who murdered your father.” The woman crushed a pea husk between her fingers.

 

“Father?” the Watcher asked.

 

“Before you were born, the Glanfathans attacked settlers like us. They said we’d knocked over some of their special adra rocks. That’s why they call it the Broken Stone War. They got very angry, and so they came into our village and killed many people. Your father was one of them.”

 

“I see,” Yenalla responded. She eyed the staircase, wondering if the spirit would follow her if she fled.

 

“That’s why you’ll be a soldier one day. To protect and to avenge. Why don’t you go back out and play? I’ll finish up here.” she said. Then she vanished in a flash of purple smoke.

 

“Are you alright, my friend?” Kana asked, his voice booming in the hall. Edér and Aloth both shot him a look.

 

“Fine,” she said. “I’m fine.”

 

Finally, they took the staircase, down and down and into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck Durance tbh


	4. Chapter 4

The air in the dungeons was wet and clung to them like a second skin. In the midst of The Battle of the Giant Spiders, another apparition appeared in the dank hold. The soldier’s purple essence seemed to crawl over the floor toward her until her attention was pulled away from the fight.

 

“New orders, lieutenant,” he said even as she lit one of the skittering beasts aflame. “Ready your squad.”

 

In his armor and cloak, studying a spectral piece of paper, the commander took a moment before he looked up at her. “There’s been a change of plans. Take your squad and march south, all the way to the bow in the river. Bring a wagon team and a dozen barrels of pitch.” he said, shaking his head.

 

_ I’m going mad _ , she thought distantly. It was the only explanation. Voices coming from chairs, ghosts speaking to her in dungeons…

 

“Am I going mad?” she asked aloud. She startled the three men with her, despite the relative quiet of her voice.

 

“I certainly hope not,” Aloth drawled, looking her over. “Why, are you feeling ill?”

 

“The instructions come from Admeth Hadret himself, which means they might as well have come from the duc,” the commander went on, rolling his orders into a thin scroll. “We’re to burn those hut-dwellers out. Set fire to the Dyrwood so they’ve nowhere to retreat. Cut them down when they come out or let them blaze if they won’t.”

 

“Nalla,” Edér said. He peered into the darkness that she was staring at, unable to see the apparition. He moved to stand in front of her, stooping to try and catch her eye. “Hey, are you in there?”

 

The ghost clenched his hand around the orders. “It’ll make this even shorter than the Broken Stone War, all right. And we can only hope it’ll discourage future conflicts.”

 

Edér turned to Aloth, asking, “Is this just something that she  _ does _ ?”

 

The elf said, “We’ve traveled together only a day longer than the three of us, and never in that time.”

 

The ghost’s arm phased through Edér and its hand dropped onto Yenalla’s shoulder. “I know this is personal for you. It is for many of us. But understand - we’re doing this to end this war, not to continue the last one. Remember that we’re flushing out the enemy, not burning villages for sport. Berath will have his work cut out for him tonight.”

 

With that, the man vanished the same way that he had appeared, in a puff of purple smoke.

 

She blinked and realized that she was eye to eye with Edér, who was waving a hand in front of her face.

 

“Hellooo?” he called. His breath washed over her, reeking of smoke. She wrinkled her nose.

 

“Hey,” the man laughed in relief as he leaned back. “Glad to see you back in the land of the living.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said slowly. Her head felt like it was in a fog. “I must be… tired.”

 

“Well, the sooner we find Maerwald the sooner we can leave this place and make camp,” Aloth said. He gave her a consoling nod when she looked over.

 

She drew in a large breath and expelled it, begging her nerves to settle. “You’re right. Let’s continue.”

 

They descended further and as she stepped down from the last stair another ghostly shape shivered into being. “We’ll take those farmers by surprise,” it said as it grinned in the dark.

 

“No!” she cried. She gasped and covered her ears. “No, no, no--”

 

She jerked back a step as Kana laid a hand on her shoulder and bumped into Aloth who was directly behind her. She flinched away from him and collapsed to the stone on her knees, trembling.

 

“I’ve gone mad,” she gasped. “They keep talking to me and you can’t  _ see them _ .”

 

“Yenalla,” Aloth said, his voice muffled through the hands she still had clasped over her ears. “We can’t see anyone but that does not mean that you’ve gone mad.”

 

She looked up at him desperately, on the verge of tears. He met her gaze without wavering, crouched in front of her. “You’re a Watcher- maybe some of the souls who have died here remain and reach for you.” Behind him, the spirit shivered before vanishing.

 

She pulled in a sobbing breath and nodded, pulling her hands away from her head to wipe at her wet eyes. She pressed against them hard, trying to shove the tears back in. Starbursts lit up the darkness of her lids.

 

“Okay,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“You don’t have to apologize for things you can’t control, kid,” Edér said. He and Kana looked over their shoulders at her from where they stood guard.

 

She took a moment to gather herself before raising one trembling finger to point at the door on their right. “He’s in there,” she said wetly. “I don’t know how I know but I  _ do _ .”

 

Kana walked over to pull lightly on the door. “Locked,” the aumaua said ruefully.

 

With a trembling sigh, she said, “I can do it.” As she struggled to get her feet under her, Aloth rose and offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.

 

She sniffed and picked the lock deftly.

 

“Where’d you learn how to do  _ that _ ?” Edér asked incredulously. She shrugged and pushed the door open, refusing to meet his eyes.

 

They walked in together, squinting against the light from the fire in the corner. In front of it stood a man, his wild eyes rolling in his head.

 

“No!” he hissed. “Keep away from us! Leave us!”

 

“Maybe we should… come back later?” Edér asked hesitantly.

 

“Maerwald?” Yenalla asked with a quavering voice. Gods, if this was what a Watcher became, perhaps she  _ was _ mad already.

 

The man shook and shivered as he choked words out of his mouth, as though he were having an argument with himself. In a moment he stopped shaking and grew calm in a softly dangerous way. He rasped, “Maerwald isn’t here, and he isn’t fooled. He has sent for no callers. Begone, deceiving spirit!”

 

“I’m a Watcher.” Yenalla shot back. She was angry all of a sudden, furious- she wanted out of this spirit nonsense and  _ out _ of this  _ dungeon _ . “I met a woman in Gilded Vale who thought you could help me.”

 

The man held another short argument before turning back, holding himself like a soldier. “Maerwald will speak with you. But you will maintain your distance or you’ll have me to answer to.”

 

His hands began to shake again and his voice feebly asked, “Come to speak to Maerwald? Maerwald whose touch is poison? Maerwald who knows not his effect?”

 

“I was told that I am a Watcher, and that you could tell me more about it,” Yenalla said, unnerved by the rapid and many changes of this man.

 

Kan chimed in. “And about a, ah, tablet of some worth, after that. Once you two are finished, of course.”

 

Maerwald nodded. “A window. Window to the ether, where spirits dwell. Peer and reach into it, speak and listen through it. A Watcher sees souls. Reads them. Knows their pasts. Souls of the living, souls of the dead. An empath.” he said, wheezing. “And the souls see them back. Used it to help beings in both realms, did I. What the gods wanted of me, thought I.”

 

His shoulders straightened again, and a strong voice came from him. “The gods put me in the world for vengeance, and I obliged.” Then his voice became raspy again as he glowered in their direction. “It was the gods’ wishes that we protect these lands. My way was the only way to remove the foreigners!”

 

His hands shook once more and cradled his face. “Little I knew…”

 

“You’re mad,” she said bleakly. “Like me, you’ve lost your mind.”

 

“Lost? No. Found more of it. Too much. Too much to  _ bear _ ,” he croaked. “An Awakening.”

 

Aloth leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “How could a simple… Awakening have driven you to this?”

 

“Your past lives,” she said. “You remember them?”

 

Maerwald nodded. “Something reminds. Memories stirred. Memories before birth. Other bodies, other times. Memory, personality, identity, any might resurface. Or all.”

 

“I seem to be speaking with several right now,” she said. She wanted to run away from this truth, but Kana stood between her and the door.

 

The old Watcher nodded sheepishly. “Ghosts of the mind. Maerwald has lost control. Maerwald’s body is no more.”

 

Horror crawled its way up her body and into her throat. It grabbed her mind and sunk its claws in, refusing to let go. “The spirits I passed - what are they?”

 

“Spirits… and not spirits. Always whispering to Maerwald. Reminding him of his mistakes. No sleep. Watchers see memories before them - form them from the essence of their own souls. Once Maerwald Awakened, he could not make them leave. Gave them more form, not less,” the man drawled.

 

“Memories?” Yenalla asked. She raised the back of one hand against her mouth, afraid that she might vomit.

 

The man nodded again. “Troubled memories. Angry memories. Pulling Maerwald back. Reminding him of his mistakes. Marauder and soldier, soldier and marauder. How could they know?”

 

“I’ve seen them since I became a Watcher,” she said, and Aloth and Edér looked at her in alarm. She had, though she had thought they were tricks of the light, flashes of purple in the sun, the echo of walking kith...

 

Maerwald’s eyes filled with tears, a few of them falling down his sunken cheeks. “Oh no. No, no,” he cried. “You too? You too.” 

 

His expression twisted into one of sympathy. “Poor woman,” he murmured. “Poor woman.  _ They will take you too _ .”

 

“What, an inevitable madness? That can’t be right.” Kana scoffed. Yenalla couldn’t pull her eyes away from the withered man by the fire. The aumaua went on, “There’s always an answer to be found, if you look hard enough.”

 

Yenalla swallowed. “You’re saying I’ll end up like you.”

 

“So fragile, the Watcher’s mind. So real his memories. Once Awakened, how can he sleep?” the man said.

 

“How did this happen?” she whispered harshly. She pulled in a ragged breath.

 

“You were reminded of it. Strong memories, lingering lives, they dwell near the surface. Waiting to be remembered. Waiting to take your mind for their own. Maerwald sat at his hearth and watched his fire. Watched the wood burn. Then came the memory of another fire, and burning wood. And screams.” he said, face trembling.

 

Yenalla asked desperately, “How do you tell a spirit from a memory?”

 

“Fragmented are memories. Stuck in time, mindless, cruel, never far,” he said. He let out a strangled moan. “My fault. All my fault. Soldier and marauder. Soldier and marauder and Maerwald. No forgiveness for what’s past. No undoing what’s done. No sleep… No sleep for the Watcher…”

 

He looked at the group, eyes lost. “War there was, all around. War of stone. War of tree.”

 

“War of tree… Oh, of course - the Broken Stone War, and the War of Black Trees,” Kana said. His bulk moved behind her in the semi-darkness but her eyes remained on Maerwald. “This was in the early period of Aedyran colonization. Fighting between the Dyrwood colonists and the native Glanfathans, you see. But… that was a long time ago…”

 

“Death we brought to the settler men. We the Nine Claws. Claws of Nine. Worse what we did to the women. For love of the gods. The gods’ love. For their love,” the man rambled.

 

“I met one of them,” she said. She could feel Edér and Aloth on either side of her, Kana at her back. “There was talk of raiding a village.”

 

Maerwald’s voice fell to rasp again. “Hold her down. Hedhwr, give this Aedyr bitch an heir that belongs in Eir Glanfath,” he said before his face cleared and he wailed.

 

She heard his words and felt herself fall into a memory of the ship and the crewman and--

 

“Stop,” she said harshly. She curled her nails into the meat of her palms and  _ pushed _ . “I don’t want to hear any more.”

 

The old man nodded, eyes wet.

 

The fire danced and she could feel the aumaua behind her and she told herself  _ it’s not him he’s dead his head on the bowsprit _ \--

 

“There must be some way to make these memories go away,” she begged of him.

 

“No,” he breathed. “Always there. Always remembered. Can’t forget. Can’t unsee…”

 

“It wasn’t me,” she said desperately. “I didn’t remember- someone caused this. They wore masks and spoke of books and keys and a queen. There was a man there who seemed familiar to me.”

 

He focused on her again, eyeing her closely. “Keys of lead. Books of burden. Queens that were. Known to me are they, the Leaden Key.”

 

“The Leaden Key?” Kana asked from behind her. He leaned over to look her in the eye and she met his gaze this time. “It seems we share a common enemy, Nalla. Assassins and Watcher-wakers both… They certainly keep busy.”

 

She turned back to Maerwald whose eyes had fallen shut. They reopened when she asked, “Could they undo it? My Awakening?”

 

He raised his eyebrows and muttered to himself before responding. “Many secrets do they keep. Un… awaken? Mayhap. Who else if not they?”

 

“Do you know where I can find them?” she asked. She stopped herself from surging towards him only by remembering the warning one of his other selves had given.

 

“City of defiance. Never far from the queen,” he said. “Woedica, goddess. Crown shattered and body burned. Binder of oaths and grudge holder. Bearer of justice, but whose?”

 

“I have to find this man,” she said faintly.

 

Maerwald nodded. “Sleep well,” he said. “Sleep well.”

 

Before they could move, his head tilted and his voice changed. “Hold! I know your will, Dai! Your actions were seen. You would sooner betray us to the Aedyr land thieves than take orders from me.”

 

“No,” she protested. “You’re confusing me with someone from a past life.”

 

The man who was and was not Maerwald sneered. “Your betrayal is for nothing. Your warnings are lost on these foreigners, and their blood will be Galawain’s tribute this night. I have asked the elders for the honor of claiming your head as my first trophy and they have granted it. Beg for the Seeker God to grant you a quick death.”

 

Edér drew his sword, the sound of metal ringing in the air, as Maerwald sent missiles their way. The battle was over in an instant, it seemed, and Yenalla watched the man’s body crumple. The thick air seemed to ease, but her focus was on Maerwald’s soul and how it lingered - knowing his keep, the keep knowing him. In her mind she could see a rope, tying Maerwald to the keep, its frayed ends writhing. She reached forward, desperate to mend, and the rope strengthened and became a metal chain. Maerwald’s soul sank into the floor and she could feel him spread over the entire keep, a silent guardian.

 

She stretched out one hand but found that he was beyond her reach. Next to her Aloth let his grimoire fall shut, and the soft thud of the pages was enough to spur her into action. She wheeled around and darted out of the room and around the corner, ignoring Kana’s call. A few steps away from the room she fell to her knees and vomited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dumped all of the chapters that i had already written. see ya'll in probably a million years when i write about this again


	5. Chapter 5

As they made their way back to the great hall, Yenalla distantly heard Aloth arguing with himself (“ _ Ye conne whit that aulder said _ ?” “I don’t want to discuss it.” “ _ Aye, yer right. No sense listening to that auld bampot… _ ” “Damned virago! Not now!”). She stumbled going up the stairs and Edér steadied her with a hand on her elbow.

 

The throne spoke aloud once they reached it. “I felt Maerwald’s passing. You slew him?”

 

“He gave me no choice,” Yenalla responded faintly.

 

The air chilled. “It saddens me to hear it. But part of me is grateful to no longer have to wait and worry in darkness. This place has always known its master, long as it’s had one. It has a will all its own, which has little to do with the castle and much to do with the land it’s built on. It looks to you as Maerwald’s successor now, whether you care for it or not. A dubious honor, inheriting a fortress both broken and cursed. But in the right hands, it could be so much more! If you had only seen it in its day.

 

The woman’s voice went on to ask, hesitantly, “Will you - will you stay?”

 

Yenalla bit down on her lip to center herself before exhaling. “Maerwald said to find ‘the queen’ in the ‘city of defiance.’”

 

“I see…” the voice said, at once without energy. “If it’s Defiance Bay you seek, I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve come a long way for nothing. The Eastern Barbican collapsed decades ago, and Maerwald never got around to rebuilding it. The road here is a dead end. He got as far as gathering materials before his mind became… preoccupied.”

 

“Can it be fixed?” Yenalla asked. Kana toed a piece of rubble away to her right.

 

“I could… make arrangements to have it repaired if that is your will. It would take time, but far less time than finding another route to Defiance Bay,” the throne said. “Maerwald set aside materials for the barbican, and they are still available to you. For future repairs, we will need coin for supplies and labor.”

 

“Alright,” Yenalla sighed.

 

“You must know, this queen you’re looking for…” the spirit went on. “Defiance Bay has no queen. The mecwyns of Aedyr haven’t reigned here since the war. The only queen with any power is Woedica. I am told they erected an exquisite temple in her honor there, but I was never able to see it. If you mean to go there, we can get started right away on repairing the barbican. You need only tell me what you wish to do, and I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Maerwald kept a ledger, as it happens, and I have taken the liberty of updating it… You could take a look if you wish?”

 

The voice was so hopeful that Yenalla, despite her exhaustion, could not refuse. “Of course. Please let me look at it.”

 

“Then we’ll get underway at once,” the voice said with excitement. “Know, my lord, that this is but the first and least of a great many undertakings. The keep supported a great many buildings and servants for many years, which we could repair to bring wealth and recognition. You need not choose all at once. Make your will known to me and I will assist.”

 

With the Warden having begun construction on the barbican, the group made their way outside and set up camp under the stars. Edér started a fire as the night air grew cold and Kana wandered around their small camp to be sure that there were no monsters lurking in the dark.

 

“Nalla?” Aloth asked. She looked up at him and saw the firelight gleam on his dark hair. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

She nodded, chewing on a piece of jerky. “I just need rest, after all of this.”

 

Aloth rolled his blankets out to prepare for bed. “I think we all do, at that.”

 

“Thank you,” she said abruptly, and he turned to look at her again. “You’ve all been very kind.”

 

Edér looked up from lighting his pipe with a smile. “Nothing to thank, kid.”

 

That night, she dreamt of nothing, and she hadn’t been so grateful in a long time. The next morning they broke camp to explore the keep. Aloth seemed distant, lost in thought, and flinched when Yenalla drew up next to him.

 

“What can I do for you?” he asked with visibly forced cheer.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked him. She thought again about the argument he’d had with himself, about their first meeting at the inn.

 

He gave her a flat smile as he stepped over some fallen branches. “Of course. Merely processing some of the… unusual things we’ve seen lately. And if Maerwald if to be believed, it would seem you’ve an uncertain future ahead.”

 

She swallowed. “I have to find the Leaden Key.”

 

Aloth nodded and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “That does seem like the logical course of action. I shall follow your lead.”

 

“Could I ask you something else?” she looked at him askance. “We don’t know much about each other and… I’d like to focus my attention elsewhere.”

 

“Of course,” he said. “How may I be of service?”

 

They spoke quietly as they wandered the courtyard and poked around inside of the dilapidated buildings. For almost an hour she asked him questions and listened to his stories. When she ran out of things to wonder about, her chest felt a bit lighter.

 

“Thank you, Aloth,” she said as she gave him a small smile.

 

“Oh!” he said with a small jump. His face flushed as he looked at her, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Of course! No thanks necessary, as Edér is so fond of saying. Ah, would you look at that? Pilgrim’s Crown!”

 

He darted off toward the flowers and left her blinking in confusion. Edér laughed behind her and she turned to him.

 

“What did you do to the poor guy?” he asked with a grin. “Never seen him blush like that before.”

 

“I only thanked him,” she said. “And smiled?”

 

“Whoa, you can do that?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He snorted when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Aw, no smiles for me?”

 

She stuck her tongue out at him and then blushed herself. She’d gotten so  _ brazen _ since she’d hit land.

 

Edér gave her one last smile before he sighed. “That old Watcher… I don’t know what I expected, but it sure wasn’t that.” He shook his head and reached for his pipe.

 

“You said you had some things you wanted to ask him,” she said, perching on a crate next to him. “I’m sorry that… that happened before you could.”

 

“You apologize a lot for things that ain’t your fault, you know that?” he asked. He puffed on his pipe before flicking his hand to put out the match. “It’s - well, it’s kinda embarrassing now. I just got a dumb idea in my head is all. Don’t know why I thought it’d work. It’s funny, that’s probably the first thing I got my hopes up for in… I dunno. Years. Least I got that out of it.”

 

“What was it?” she asked. Across the way, Aloth swatted frantically around his head, seemingly having angered some bees in his quest for alchemical ingredients. “I won’t judge.”

 

Edér sighed. “Alright. Guess fair’s fair, and you did bring me to see him. Those rumors back in Gilded Vale about my brother, Woden. About how he’d turned against us and fought for Waidwen. Been on my mind for some time now.”

 

Edér’s face was soft when he spoke about his brother and slightly resigned. As he told her the story she could tell just how much faith he had in his brother, and how little he seemed to have in himself.

 

He shook his head and focused on her again. “I thought… maybe this old Watcher would know how my brother died, so I could see if it was true. Like he could - I dunno, read it in my soul or something. Use our connection.” He snorted. “Told you it was dumb.”

 

“That’s not dumb, Edér,” she said firmly. “But… why didn’t you ask me?”

 

He shrugged with a half sheepish smile. “I dunno. Guess ‘cause I didn’t know you. It’s hard to trust a stranger that says she’s a Watcher. Course I knew the truth, deep down. A Watcher’s not psychic. I think I just had this idea and the idea made me feel a certain way and I didn’t wanna lose that.”

 

“Really if I wanted to find out about my brother I shouldn’t be starting with Watchers, I should be starting with records,” he said with one last puff on his pipe. He let the flame in the bowl die and then knocked the ash out against the wall behind them.

 

Her eyebrows rose incredulously. “It took you fifteen years to figure that out?”

 

He cracked a smile. “Never occurred to me to go looking into it. Not ‘til you put some crazy notions about Watchers in my head.”

 

He thought a moment before raising his eyebrows. “If there was anything written down about it, they’d have it in Defiance Bay. They got an archive at the palace. You’ve done a lot for me already, but if you could see fit to pay that archive a visit with me, well… you know. Knowing my luck the records clerk will go crazy and try to kill me. I’d feel better with you in there with me.”

 

“Anything,” Yenalla said with a firm nod. She dropped off of the crate and stood, reaching up slightly to pat Edér on the shoulder.

  
  


They spent the rest of the day relaxing in the sun, taking the chance to rest while they could. Kana sat down heavily near her while they cooked a stew over the fire.

 

“Poor Maerwald,” the aumaua sighed. “He couldn’t contend with all that he knew of himself. A cruel fate.”

 

Her mouth twisted to the side slightly. “It may be my fate, too.”

 

“It may,” he replied slowly. “But Maerwald knew his curse, for all that he succumbed to it. Perhaps he gave you what you need to escape his fate. Let’s seek out these ruins he mentioned. We may find something of use.”

  
  
  
  


They decided to travel back to Gilded Vale to pawn the wares they had accumulated from rightful conquest (or, as some would call it, looting). On the second night away from Caed Nua, Yenalla was woken by Edér shaking her shoulder. He was stooped over her, a concerned look on his face. She could only remember the foggy pull of unremembered nightmares, and she was unsure if she had slept at all.

 

“You’re awake?” he asked, dropping to a crouch next to her bedroll. She pulled herself upright and rubbed her eyes. “Good. You were - you were kinda thrashing around, eyes rolled back in your head. And you were shaking.” He exhaled. “Been trying to snap you out of it for a long time now. Though I was gonna have to get a bucket of cold water.”

 

He looked at her closely. “You, uh- you don’t seem like you get much rest at night. You’ve got those dark circles under your eyes.”

 

“Not lately,” she mumbled. “At night there are dreams and… whispers.”

 

“It’s the Watcher thing, then. I’m sure it just takes some time to adjust is all.” His smile was not one of a man convinced by his own words. “I’ll try to let it sort itself out. But you’d better wake up faster next time. Trust me, you don’t want that bucket of cold water.”

 

They took a different path back to Caed Nua, by way of Esternwood, and were intercepted by Kolsc. The man begged their help and together they fought their way through Raedric’s keep until they were at the feet of the man himself.

 

“Gilded Vale has suffered under your rule,” she said with narrowed eyes. She thought to herself that she had almost lost Aloth and Edér to this madman before they had ever met. “It deserves a better leader.”

 

Raedric laughed with disbelief. “And you think Kolsc is that leader? What does he understand of what it means to be thayn? He has gathered a meager assembly of illiterate farmers and scavengers to himself, and sends these in suicidal action against my guards.”

 

“You are a pawn in Kolsc’s designs, and he has kept his motivations from you for a reason. I wonder if you understand what it is you do, or what you might accomplish if you were better informed… You have proven your competence, in your way. And had I such an ally, we might, together, put an end to Gilded Vale’s woes. Lift the curse once and for all, and in so doing, return us to a life where such… strict measures are not necessary,” he said, sneering down at her imperiously.

 

She snarled and she heard Edér thumb his sword loose in response. “Your people deserve justice. This ends _ here _ !”

 

Raedric nodded and rose as his guards settled into battle stances. “So be it. May the Twinned God take pity upon your splintered soul, and scatter it to the winds.”

 

The battle raged for what seemed like ages. When Raedric and his men finally fell, Yenalla and her companions all breathed heavily and were covered in blood.

 

“Is anyone hurt?” she panted.

 

Edér groaned and pressed a hand against Aloth’s shoulder, which was bleeding sluggishly. “Be easier to ask who’s _not_ hurt.” The human had a light burn across one cheek from the battlemage.

 

Kana sat the butt of his gun on the stone floor and leaned against it. “And you, my friend?” he asked.

 

She swayed for a moment and looked down to see a gaping hole in the stomach of her padded armor. Bloody and ragged blue and red flesh peeked out. “A graze,” she said.

 

Edér snorted and shot her a look. “Kana, can you fix her up? She’s like to faint before she says anything’s wrong.”

 

Kana sat her on one of the steps and removed her armor, applying a poultice to her stomach and binding the wound. His gaze lingered on her back, riddled with scars from a decade’s worth of whippings but he said nothing about them, only carried on telling some tale from Rauatai. Battered, but victorious, they made to leave the throne room. Then, Kolsc walked in flanked by four of his men.

 

“We heard that you had moved against the keep. And yet we have arrived too late. But a moment earlier, and I would have heard his dying breath… no matter,” the man said. He looked entirely unconcerned with their state and Yenalla glowered.

 

“It is done,” the Dyrwoodan went on. “The tyrant is dead, and our village is free to move into a greater future. Gilded Vale owes you a great debt. I owe you a great debt - you have accomplished what I could not.”

 

“Take what you care to from Raedric’s vaults. You have earned them twice over,” Kolsc smiled as he looked over the throne room. “There is much to do. We must send word to the erl, of course. Revoke the cruel laws Raedric has instated… But do not think we will forget your assistance. You have brought about great change. Take pride - everyone will remember this moment.”

 

“Come, men!” he called as he strode eagerly towards the throne. “Clear these bodies from the hall.”

 

Already forgotten at the base of the stairs, Yenalla snorted and turned away. The others followed her as they slowly left the keep, the black cat from the dungeons following them all the way. They made their way to Gilded Vale once more and unloaded their spoils at the inn and the blacksmith.

 

“A room for each of us,” Yenalla asked of Pasca, exhausted. “The nicest you have.”

 

“Of course!” the woman said, delighted. “On the house for tonight, especially after what you did to help the town with Raedric.”

 

Edér huffed a tired laugh. “Word travels fast in these parts.”

 

“You know,” Pasca said as she leaned closer over the counter. “I heard that he killed his wife after the birth of his hollowborn child. Poor woman.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head as she passed over the keys.

 

“Gods bless your sleep,” she said with a smile. “You’re something of a champion around here, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> blergh.
> 
> follow me on tumblr if you wanna @ tvnnelsnake.tumblr.com


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